Friendly Fire
by Shruikin
Summary: Cassandra's not particularly fond of the new-found Herald of Andraste, but none the less accepts the Herald's challenge to a sparring match. femTrevelyan/Cassandra friendship, hints of TrevelyanxCullen


At first, Cassandra wasn't entirely fond of the newfound Herald of Andraste. Actually, that was a colossal understatement. When they first met Cassandra was ready to skewer the girl just to grant any kind of justice, but now… well now things have changed. Rifts, breaches, tears, demons, the Fade… it made her head spin. Turns out the Herald wasn't some crazed terrorist not unlike that mage in Kirkwall, but instead a girl entirely in the wrong place in the wrong time.

Revealing the girl's innocent nature didn't automatically make her likeable, however. The girl… Cassandra had considered her one; she was so young and unaffected by the troubles of the world. The Herald was cocky and confident, carrying herself with an ease of someone without a care in the world.

The Herald reminded her a lot of the green recruits she'd often see with Templars and Seekers. Young, confident, naive, almost obnoxiously willing to prove himself or herself. The Herald, or Trevelyan as Leliana figured out, stomped around Haven with a sword and shield on her back despite them not leaving for the Hinterlands for several days. Villagers, soldiers, and the like still regarded her with suspicion, who wouldn't? Some women crawling out of a rift with a green mark on her and is now in a position of power? Cassandra huffed, attacking the practice dummy with more vigor.

"Cassandra… right?" came the voice of the person Cassandra was just contemplating. She turned and found the Herald standing there, shoulders high, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

"Yes?" she asked curtly. She was stressed and this was her only free time of the day, which she'd rather be spending tearing up dummies then conversing with this girl.

The Herald seemed unaffected by her tone. "Having fun?"

Cassandra blinked, dropping her fighting stance and catching her breath. "Do you need something?" she breathed, reaching for the flask of water she had nearby.

"Right to the point, I like it!" the Herald grinned, and Cassandra rolled her eyes. This so-called charming persona the Herald seemed hell-bent on maintaining was becoming a little contrived. "I thought you could give those poor dummies a break," she gestured to the pile of practice dummies that had seen the wrong end of Cassandra's temper. "Would you like to spar with me, instead?"

Cassandra stared while the Herald kept her bright, unwavering expression. "Why?" she asked, taking a chug from her ice cold water and wiping her mouth.

The Herald's expression flickered to something Cassandra could not read before that aggravating smirk was back. "I just figured you'd like to fight a real warrior." The Herald then gestured to herself.

Cassandra could not hold back the condescending snort. "I don't think so."

The Herald's expression and body language shifted immediately. "Why not?" she asked, her smirk and arms dropping. Cassandra was surprised to see that she any other emotions than 'constant smarm'.

The Seeker sized the girl up. She was young, barely out of her teens with a fresh, unscarred face. Her red hair hung loosely, and no decent warrior would keep his or her hair that long or that loose. Leliana mentioned that the Herald was the youngest of the Noble family Trevelyan, and the Herald certainly fit the stereotypical description of a noble maiden. And Cassandra had no time or patience for nobles.

The Herald was still waiting for an answer, so Cassandra took another swig of her water and placed it back on the ground. "Because I would most likely hurt you and we need you unharmed for the Inquisition."

Trevelyan actually looked offended. "Hurt me? Did I not prove myself capable in fighting demons earlier?" she asked, her stance becoming defensive. Cassandra was getting the sneaking suspicion that Trevelyan was not used to being turned down to sparring matches, or anything really.

"True, but they did not have the finesse or intelligence of a warrior. And do you really think you can take on a Seeker?" Cassandra hoped her question implied that she had way more experience than this child and to at least get her to back down. It did not have the desired effect, because the Herald jutted her chin out.

"I had Templar training," she claimed, chest puffing out. Cassandra pursed her lips, realizing that was the first thing the Herald ever revealed about herself other than her name. Her eyes lacked the telltale sign of lyrium, so it was obvious she never made it past training. Maybe she wasn't so frilly and inexperienced as she expected.

"Templar training? I thought you were a noble?" Cassandra asked. She quickly realized that she shouldn't be surprised. An unfamiliar pang of guilt surged in her gut as Cassandra realized her hypocrisy. Here she was, judging a noble's ability to fight, but was she not a noble who fought as well?

Before the Herald could answer Cassandra huffed. "Alright, one match." The girl grinned almost stupidly before yanking her shield off of her back and pulling her sword out of its sheath. Cassandra picked up her own sword and grabbed her shield leaning against the nearby tent. Both of them took a few steps back and sunk into fighting positions.

"Want me to go easy on you?" Trevelyan teased, clearly enjoying this. Cassandra chuckled dryly.

"Please, this will only be a warm up." She tried to ignore the glee she got from battlefield banter. Most were too scared to even try with her.

Both of them circled a bit, silently urging the other to attack first. A few of the training recruits noticed the developing duel and stopped their own fights to watch. Cullen, who was just a few tents away, was about to snarl at his soldiers for stopping, but ceased when he noticed the spectacle. He smirked and crossed his arms. There was a flash of red in the distance. Did she even see Leliana watching?

Her momentary distraction was a mistake, as the Herald swung her shield on her exposed side. Cassandra grunted at the impact, underestimating the Herald's attention to her focus. Cassandra parried with her sword, but Trevelyan was quick enough to deflect it. They did this song and dance for a few minutes. Cassandra was pleased to discover that the Herald wasn't completely useless in a duel. A little inexperienced, maybe, but not as horrible as Cassandra originally thought.

It was clear that the cockiness that oozed out of Trevelyan was a worn tactic that worked for her in the past, but had no effects on Cassandra. The Herald's swagger seemed to deflate as each opening she got to take Cassandra down, the Seeker expertly avoided. Trevelyan also appeared to become more and more exhausted, wasting her energy on powerful lunges and jabs that never landed a hit. The Herald skittered a few steps back, gulping in air, her chest heaving. Her eyes flickered to Cullen, and Cassandra took her strike.

The Seeker bashed her shield right square in the Herald's chest, hurling her ungracefully to the ground. The wind knocked out of her, the Heard dropped her sword and gasped frantically. The watching soldiers whooped and hollered, and Cassandra tried and failed to suppress her smirk.

Cullen was there a few moments later, his eyes laughing but his face desperately trying to scowl. "Seeker, I thought the agreement was to not hurt the Herald," he chided softly. He looked down at the Herald. "Are you alright?"

Trevelyan wheezed, sitting up with her legs splayed out. She glanced up at Cullen, mouth open, and her neck turning red. Cassandra raised an eyebrow, but before she could ask the Herald scrambled to her feet. "Fine, great, fantastic. Barely a scratch!" She held her arms wide open to prove to onlookers that she was, indeed, fine. Soldiers cheered, apparently willing to praise anything today. Cullen gave her a wary glance before marching back to his post while the rest of the recruits went back to their own sparring matches. Trevelyan watched the commander's receding figure before turning to Cassandra.

"Holy shit," she exhaled raggedly. "I think you popped my lungs." She rubbed her sternum for good measure. Cassandra chuckled.

"You need to not waste energy on lunges you and I both know wont hit," Cassandra advised. "And also not get distracted by pretty ex-Templars." Trevelyan's cheeks were quickly turning pink.

"I uh… I'll keep that in mind." She scratched the back of her head.

"Also cut your hair, only fairy tales have shield maidens with long hair," Cassandra said, pointing to the long, now tangled locks in question.

"Bah, no way! Do you know how much I had to flight with a Knight Captain to keep it this long? I'm not giving all that whining and posturing to waste!"

Cassandra smirked, as did the Herald. Maybe this girl did have some humility. The Seeker evenly stared at her, "You weren't half bad, more focus and practice and you'll maybe send me on my ass someday." Trevelyan huffed in amusement.

"Oh I look forward to that day," the Herald laughed. She then paused, looking almost hesitant. "Uh… would you like to fight again tomorrow?" Her normally confident voice wavered a bit.

Cassandra was confused by her almost meek tone, but shrugged. "Alight, but I expect a better one tomorrow. No theatrics, you fight like an Orlesian!"

Trevelyan mocked offense, and did a sweeping bow, coughing a little from the shield blow earlier. "I shall see you at a later time, Seeker. For I must be off to yell at servants and eat cheese!" she cried dramatically in a horrible, broken Orlesian accent. Her joke had the desired effect, as Cassandra barked a laugh loud enough for even Varric to stare at her suspiciously.

"Another time, Herald."

Trevelyan heaved her shield on and sheathed her sword before marching back to the chantry. "Oh… Cassandra?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," the younger woman said, smiling before returning to her previous task.

Cassandra nodded, again confused by her tone. Varric sidled up, grinning stupidly. "Didn't know you had the capacity to laugh, Seeker," he teased. She scowled down at the dwarf.

"I'm not made of stone," she grunted, before glancing at the Herald's retreating figure into the Chantry.

"You look confused, Seeker," Varric observed in a rare moment of non-sarcasm.

"I… I don't know why she wanted to spar so badly. I thought the poor girl was going to cry when I first rejected her."

"Distraction, maybe? I can't imagine she's having an easy time. Some of her family was in the Conclave, you know."

Cassandra blinked spastically, feeling a tidal wave of guilt and embarrassment rush through her. Why did she judge so harshly? She was always terrible at looking at the bigger picture. She gripped her sword a little tighter before sighing. "I am a fool."

"That we can agree on," Varric teased, narrowly avoiding her swatting hand. His face turned serious again. "Are you going to spar with her tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Good, I think she needs a friend."

"What about you?" Cassandra asked, glancing down at the dwarf. The two seemed to get a long just fine. Matter of fact they spent much too long in the tavern together.

"I wouldn't say I'm the kind of… support she needs right now. She needs a guide, not a drinking buddy," Varric explained. He then bowed. "Seeker," he said, trudging back to his tent.

Cassandra considered his words, biting her lip. Friend. She didn't have a lot of those left. She then huffed, scooping up her pile of splintered dummies and carrying them to the waste pile. Friends. She didn't know if her and Trevelyan would ever reach that level, but Cassandra wouldn't mind if they did.


End file.
